


Childhood

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Falling Skies
Genre: M/M, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:30:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3419396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cochise has questions on pre-Espheni childhoods.  Tom isn't the best person to ask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Childhood

            Walking through the woods with Cochise is usually a relaxing part of Tom’s day.  Despite the tentative newness of their romantic relationship and the confusion that sometimes arises from dating someone from another planet, Cochise is just easy to be around. 

            He’s got an inquisitive streak to match Tom’s own, which is something that Tom deeply appreciates.  Except for the topic that Cochise has decided to ask him about today is a topic that Tom doesn’t like to even think about, except when strictly necessary. 

            “I have seen how humans raise their offspring under these extreme circumstances,” Cochise starts, and it’s an innocuous enough start.  “But I am curious about how humans raised their offspring prior to the Espheni invasion.  How were you raised, Tom Mason?”

            Tom stumbles a little, surprised at this turn in the conversation.  He had been expecting that Cochise would end up asking about how he and Rebecca had parented prior to the invasion.  Not this. 

            He wishes he could lie, but this is _Cochise_. 

            “I don’t think that learning about my childhood would help you learn about the usual human childhood,” Tom says stiffly.

            “Why not?”

            “My childhood was not exactly typical,” Tom hedges.

            Cochise stops, and Tom turns to look at him.  His head is tilted and Tom has the unbearable feeling that he’s being scrutinized. 

            Feeling defensive, Tom crosses his arms.  He tries not to glare at Cochise, though.  It isn’t fair to glare at him over this.  “What?”  It’s probably not fair to snap at him, either, but it’s too late.

            “This is causing you distress.  Am I interpreting your body language correctly?” Cochise says.

            “You’ve gotten good at that,” Tom says.

            “I did not mean to distress you.  I apologize,” Cochise says. 

            “It’s okay,” Tom says, relaxing marginally.

            Cochise reaches out to stroke Tom’s arm gently.  “I will not ask you anymore questions about it.”

            “Thank you,” Tom says.

            He leans up to kiss Cochise’s cheek and then he holds him close for a second.  Cochise is such a comforting presence. 

            They walk in silence the rest of their usual route.  They look perfectly normal, and Tom even feels alright, except he’s gripping so tightly onto Cochise’s hand that it can’t be comfortable.  Hopefully, his Volm super resilience means he’s not too uncomfortable. 

            Cochise doesn’t say anything, though, and when they reach Charleston, he kisses Tom gently.

* * *

 

            That night, Tom can’t sleep.  His stomach is twisting itself into knots and no matter how many different positions he tries, it doesn’t make it feel any better.

            Always the constant, patient lover, Cochise adjusts with him. 

            The closest to comfortable that Tom can get is on his side facing Cochise, curled up so tightly into himself that Cochise is just kind of awkwardly in bed with him.  He watches Cochise watch him, wondering what it is that Cochise sees in him.

            They lay there for what feels like an hour before Cochise breaks the silence.  “Is something distressing you?”

            Tom nods slowly, not trusting himself to speak.

            Cochise props himself up on one arm, resting the other on Tom’s knee.  “You are aware that you can talk to me about anything, correct?  You do not have to, of course, but it is an option.”

            “I know, I know,” Tom says softly.  He inhales deeply.  It’s okay, this is Cochise.  “My dad was, uh, pretty abusive when I was growing up.  He liked to drink, yell.”  He swallows hard.  “He got violent.  A lot.”

            “Violent?”  Cochise frowns.  “With you?”

            “Yeah.  Usually he’d just hit me when I upset him.  He did put me in the hospital a few times,” Tom says.  A couple times Tom had been sure he wasn’t going to make it through the night.  He always did, though.

            “I do not understand,” Cochise says.

            Tom had figured that Cochise would know a hospital is, but okay.  “A hospital is somewhere where sick or injured humans-“

            “No, I know what a hospital is,” Cochise says.  “I do not understand why it was allowed to continue.”

            Tom’s lips quirk upward humorously.  “You’re not the only one.”

            “Did nobody intervene on your behalf?”  Cochise sets his hand gently on his cheek.

            Tom shrugs, and then rests his hand on Cochise’s.  “One of my teachers tried when I kept coming into school all beaten up.  My dad wasn’t good at a lot of things, but he was good at lying.  There was always a good excuse and it wasn’t like my dad was the only one hitting his kid.”

            “I do not know what to say.  Such incidents are very rare among the Volm,” Cochise says.  He leans in and presses his lips to Tom’s forehead, “but I am glad that you survived and that you are safe now.”

            It’s funny that safe is in the middle of a warzone, but here they are.

            “There’s one more thing,” Tom says, breathing deeply.

            “Of course,” Cochise says.

            “If I ever, ever hurt my boys, if you even suspect, you have to do whatever you have to to keep them safe,” Tom says urgently.  “You have to promise me.”

            “Tom Mason, I do not think-“

            “No!  There’s no arguing about this,” Tom says.  “You have to promise me.” 

            Cochise holds his gaze intensely, but looks away soon enough.  “Very well.  If I ever suspect that you are doing harm to your offspring, I will keep them safe from you.”

            “No matter what.”

            “No matter what.  I promise you,” Cochise says solemnly. 

            Tom smiles wanly.  “Good.  Thank you.”

            “They do not know of this, am I correct?” Cochise asks.

            “Correct,” Tom says.  “They think their grandfather died before they were born.  Hopefully he died when the Espheni came.”

            “If he did not?  If he arrives in Charleston?”

            “I won’t let him see them,” Tom says firmly. 

            Cochise inclines his head.  “If such a thing occurs, tell me if you require assistance.”

            There had been a weight sitting on him, which Tom hadn’t even noticed, but he can feel it starting to shift, to lift.  Cochise isn’t going to judge him, not for being hit, not for being willing to off his old man if he has to.  And his kids have a safety net against him again, one they had been lacking since Rebecca had been killed.

            “Thank you for everything, Cochise,” Tom says.

            “Of course.  I hope you are less distressed now,” Cochise says.

            “I am,” Tom says.  He runs his fingers along the ridges on Cochise’s head.  “I really, truly am.”


End file.
